Suffering the Consequences
by psychobabblers
Summary: kinkmeme prompt: Uther sees that Arthur and Merlin are friends, so when Arthur steps out of line, defies his father..,he has Merlin taken out and beaten in the square.


"We cannot grant your request," Uther said, words heavy with finality.

The woman took a breath and opened her mouth, no doubt to plea her case further, but Uther was already looking past her to the door where more peasants were queuing. "Next," he said calmly, nodding to the guards to escort her out.

"No," Arthur said, halting the guards' attempts to move her out the door. He crossed his arms and looked at the woman appraisingly. He leaned toward his father, speaking quietly. "Father, what are you doing? You know as well as I that if we do not send them aid, their village will continue to be raided by bandits. A few knights will not affect our defenses but can do a lot of good there."

Uther waited for Arthur to finish arguing his case. "I will not risk Camelot's defenses. We are stretched thinly as it is. I cannot let one village put the kingdom in danger. No," he said firmly. "They will have to hold out on their own until we are able to spare knights without endangering the castle."

Arthur glared at the king, but subsided. The next in line was allowed into the throne room and the woman left, head bowed and shoulders slumped. Arthur neutralized his expression and took a step back into his normal spot to the right and slightly behind the throne. He caught Merlin's eye and nodded almost imperceptibly. The next time Uther swept his gaze around the room, the manservant was gone. Arthur didn't appear to have noticed.

Uther 's eyes narrowed.

Over the next few days, Uther was kept busy with meetings with ambassadors and war reports. He rarely saw Arthur, but his son had not challenged him on a decision again. The feeling of misgiving was shoved into the back of his mind and he turned to focus on other matters.

"What of Sir Bedivere or Sir Lucan?" Uther said, studying the map. "We can spare two knights to scout out the woods here." He tapped the map where a smattering of trees were inked in.

His advisors were nodding with agreement, but what knights were present shifted uneasily on their feet. Uther stilled and slowly turned to face Arthur, who, to his credit, held his gaze.

"I sent them on a mission, Father," Arthur said. "They will return by the end of this week."

Uther felt his temper rising. How dare his son order a military maneuver behind his back, one he had specifically forbidden?

"I forbade it," Uther said stiffly.

Arthur straightened and said levelly. "I will not stand by and watch our people suffer. Not while I can do something about it."

Despite himself, Uther felt a flash of respect for his son. He remembered what it had been like when he was Arthur's age, with a head full of noble deeds and a heart of idealism. What it had been like to look to the future with hope and longing, bright plans for a better Camelot. But the chain of command must be kept, _had_ to be kept, Uther knew. Power was only kept by those who did not appear weak. Anything less than absolute strength would lead to the wolves clawing down their front doors. Uther had thought Arthur understood this.

"You should not have gone against my wishes, Arthur," Uther said.

Arthur met his stare head on. There was a fiery glint in his eye that told Uther this would get ugly very quickly. Then, all of a sudden, Arthur drops his gaze.

"I will not apologize for sending the knights out, for I still believe it to be the right thing to do and I do not regret it," Arthur said. "But I do apologize for going against your command. I had no desire to defy you, Father."

Uther nodded, accepting it, surprised that his hotheaded son would back down so quickly and maturely. An advisor hastily stepped forward and began to deliver another round of reports.

Uther sat back and discreetly watched Arthur. Watched how every so often, in between nodding at the advisor's words or interjecting a comment of his own, his eyes would flick toward his manservant, that skinny boy Arthur complained often of idiocy and clumsiness, and yet did not seem at all inclined to replace with a more competent servant. Uther had not missed the way the boy had stared hard at Arthur during his confrontation with Uther and shaken his head ever so slightly.

He nodded slowly to himself, knowing what had to be done.

* * *

><p>"Merlin!" Arthur shouted. The sunlight was streaming brightly through the window, the sounds of the town also drifting in. When there was no answer to his shout, Arthur grumbled to himself and began to sort through his clothing. He wasn't exactly sure how Merlin organized it all, so by the time he selected appropriate clothing for the day, the neatly folded shirts were looking decidedly rumpled.<p>

Arthur didn't particularly care though; he had thousands of meetings to attend today, and Merlin was late with his breakfast. "As usual," he muttered to himself.

He continued to grumble as he pulled on the shirt and found his boots. "What exactly is the point of having a servant if he doesn't wake you up in time and is constantly late with breakfast?" he asked the empty room.

As if his complaints had finally been heard, there was the faint sound of pounding feet on stone, that quickly got louder. A moment later, the door burst open and Merlin ran inside, tray held carefully in his hands. "Breakfast, sire!" he said cheerfully, placing the food on the table. Then his eyes fell on the clothes strewn all over the room and his face crumpled in dismay.

"I'm surprised you even managed to find breakfast at this hour," Arthur said, forestalling the chiding he knew would surely be coming his way soon. Of course, that didn't stop Merlin, but Arthur had already begun eating when Merlin started complaining about Arthur's lack of organization or general neatness. It was easy to tune him out and focus on enjoying the food.

"What do you mean, lazy?" Arthur snapped, some of the words piercing through the bliss of appeasing his stomach. "I dressed myself today, didn't I?"

Merlin flushed. "I'm sorry I was late; Gaius had a patient that he needed help with—"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I don't want to hear your excuses, Merlin."

There was a moment of silence while Arthur chewed on a piece of bread and Merlin stood morosely next to him. He shuffled his feet and then again when Arthur continued to steadfastly ignore him.

Arthur sighed. He waved a hand toward the other chair and Merlin sat down and eagerly began to eat Arthur's breakfast, completely forgetting his earlier contriteness.

Arthur felt his scowl fade as he watched the food vanish under Merlin's attentions, idly wondering to himself, not for the first time, how Merlin managed to stay so skinny.

"Oh look," Merlin said with his mouth stuffed full of bread. Arthur wrinkled his nose but followed Merlin's gaze out the window. The knights were back. Arthur felt a flicker of apprehension. He doubted his father had forgiven him for his impudence in sending out knights after he had forbidden it. Not for the first time, he felt thankful that Merlin had been there to help him reign in his temper and defuse the situation before it got out of control.

"I must go see my father. Go muck the stables when you're done here," Arthur called over his shoulder as he strode out the door. Merlin waved a hand at him to show he had heard, not looking up from the plate, and Arthur rolled his eyes.

Arthur met Sir Bedivere and Sir Lucan as they left the throne room, faces pale and expressions stilted. They greeted him with a short incline of their heads, avoiding his eyes, before hurrying away. Arthur frowned, making a note to speak to them later. His father must be even angrier than he had thought.

"Arthur," his father greeted him when he entered the throne room.

"Father," Arthur said, bowing his head. He hesitated, then said, "I hope you do not blame the knights—"

"I do not," Uther interrupted flatly. Arthur subsided, waiting for his father to speak, but Uther seemed content to read the scroll he held unfurled in front of him.

A movement outside the window caught Arthur's eye. Merlin, heading down to the stables, stopping to speak to Gwen on the way. Arthur watched her say something to make him laugh, found himself watching the flash of happiness that flitted across his face. He turned back to face his father, but found himself looking directly into his eyes instead, dark and cold and unyielding. Not his father then, but his king. Uther's eyes slid past his to settle at a point in the window.

The bustling sounds of the courtyard erupt with shouts.

Arthur felt his heart constrict with dread.

He didn't want to turn around, but his feet were turning before he knew what he was doing. His knights were standing in a loose ring, stiff and facing outwards, a hand on the hilt of their swords, townspeople staring and whispering and pointing. Gwen had grabbed the arm of one of the knights and appeared to be pleading with him. _Leon_. He ignored her though, not moving to throw her off, with jaw set and fists clenched at his side, while she threw propriety to the wind and attempted to shake him.

The murmurings of the crowd were beginning to subside and Arthur could hear the words of a court herald reading from a scroll. "…for crimes against the crown…sentenced to…thankful for His Majesty's mercy…"

In between the words that drifted to where Arthur was standing, thunderstuck, near the window, there were the sound of blows and stifled cries.

"Father," Arthur said, deathly calm, still looking out the window, not really seeing anything anymore.

He could feel the stare Uther levelled at him. "You must learn, Arthur, that your actions have consequences for those you rule. Every decision you make could have repercussions that you cannot foresee. If you make a mistake," Uther said, "it is your subjects who suffer and pay the price."

Arthur clenched his hands until he could feel his nails gauging into flesh.

"Merlin has nothing to do with this," he said forcefully.

"Do you deny that he was the one who informed the knights of the order to be dispatched to the village?"

"No," Arthur said, "But—"

"Do you deny that no such orders were issued by myself?"

"No," Arthur said, desperately, helplessly. "No, I—"

Uther's steely gaze had his jaws snapped shut before he could gather his thoughts.

"Father," Arthur said. "Merlin was only following my orders. You can't—"

"Watch what you say," Uther said, voice low and menacing.

In the courtyard, Merlin was hanging limply in Sir Bedivere's grip. His left arm was bent at an unnatural angle and a trickle of blood was dripping down the side of his mouth. Arthur watched as red drops splattered the ground when he coughed. Red, red, red. Blood red.

Camelot red.

And something in him snapped.

When he came to his sense again, four guards are holding him down as he violently shoved and swung punches. Uther's pitiless voice came from the direction of the throne, where he had settled himself and was now watching him disapprovingly.

"Arthur, you will behave in a manner fit for your status and respect for myself or your manservant will be executed before the sun sets this day."

Arthur ceased his struggles against the guards and stood, breathing harshly, glaring at Uther.

"Release me," he said to the guards, quietly. They looked at each other uneasily and let go of his arms.

Arthur folded his arms and forced himself to stare down at the scene unraveling in the courtyard, feeling his heart constrict with every soft cry that could be heard, until the ring of knights finally moved away, silent and heads bowed in shame. There was a small commotion as Gaius shoved his way through the crowd and gently picked up the achingly small, motionless figure on the ground, Gwen hovering anxiously at his side. Arthur watched him carry Merlin away, accepting help from the people that stepped forward.

"Let this be a lesson to you," Uther said quietly. "You are a compassionate man, Arthur, but Camelot is surrounded by enemies and if you let your heart guide your decisions instead of your head, you will cause much more suffering than you save." His father put a hand on his shoulder, almost gently, and left, the door clanging shut behind him.

Arthur stood on the balcony for a minute longer, heart pounding and eyes burning with rage.

Then he took a breath and followed his father. He had meetings to go today, after all.


End file.
